


Like mother, like son.

by Khelkhet



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 11:59:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5333294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khelkhet/pseuds/Khelkhet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Khel has confirmed the parentage of her son, after about five years, and it has had the opposite effect that she desired.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like mother, like son.

“Well….. _Fuck_.”

 

Khel punctuated her profane observation of her current circumstance by force-hurling the datapad, previously obediently delivering an analysis to its master, across the room to shatter against the wall.

 

“Fuck!” agreed the cheerful voice of a little red-skinned boy, whose habit of showing up at difficult times was surely, his mother had concluded, one of his force-gifts. He unceremoniously abandoned his own datapad to the floor ran as quickly as his bare feet could manage to leap at his mother’s opened arms.

 

“Indeed.” Master Oren, fortunately, was more controlled, “And just in time to help expand your son’s vocabulary.” He raised an amused but disapproving brow, but said nothing more of that for the time being, “We weren’t expecting you back for another couple days, at least,” he mentioned, “But it is good to see you back, and safe.”

 

Khel crushed tiny bones in a bearhug, kissed her son on his forehead and let him straddle her lap. “I knew how badly you all would miss me if I were gone much longer,” she insisted, brushing hair from the boy’s face, “So I hurried back. Are you off to bed, then?” Her eyes flicked from the boy to the Jedi briefly.

 

Joss nodded, “But I want to hear about....Odd.,.”

 

“Odessan,” Khel finished for him. “Perhaps you could go get ready for bed, and I’ll tell you about a very interesting person I met there.”

 

“OKay,” the boy agreed with a big grin, crawling from his mother’s lap and darting off with more energy than Khel would have liked just before bedtime.

 

Oren waited until the boy was around the corner before picking up a piece of the destroyed datapad. “I take it the news was unpleasant?” he asked casually, setting the shattered screen on Khel’s desk.

 

The Pureblood groaned softly, “Not unpleasant...Disastrous. As if it could have been any other way.” she gestured to the wreckage, “The DNA results are conclusive. The boy’s father is the Mandalorian. The only way that could possibly have been worse is if it hadn’t been the Mandalorian, because that’d have made him Tichorius’s and…” she gestured, hands accusing the air helplessly.

 

Oren picked up another piece of the shattered datapad. “Was it better not knowing?”

 

“In some ways,” Khel confessed, “I have to worry about him even more now. The Mandalorian may seek to claim him to raise as a Mandalorian, if I tell him about the boy’s existence at all, and there’s nothing under the sky that will come between me and my son...Yet to deny him knowledge of his heritage so when the time comes he can decide his path would be unfair to him. Of course, his father suspects something because one-night-stands don’t generally hire mercenaries to find the ‘blood or bones’ of a man for no reason whatsoever.”

 

Khel stood, helping her Jedi guard to gather the pieces. “On the other hand,” she continued, “If he shows any obvious signs of force sensitivity where the Mandalorian can see, he’ll be rejected...Which will be devastating for him. At least,” she sighed tiredly, “If his father had turned out to be Tichorius, I could be confident that he would never hurt him...He’d be too curious if Joss could be a tool to ensuring his survival.”

 

Master Oren, once tasked by the Jedi Council to potentially be her assassin and now the guard and tutor of her son, paused to place a comforting hand on Khel’s shoulder. “Your son is strong, like his mother. Whatever you decide will be the right thing. Trust in--”

 

“Trust in the Force. Blah blah blah, Jedi nonsense, blah blah blah.”

 

“Blah blah blah.” Oren nodded wisely, as if imparting some great and valuable wisdom upon his red-skinned friend and having long since become accustomed to Khel’s good-natured defiance.

 

Khel put her hand on his. “You really think I’ll do the right thing?”

 

Oren nodded, “You had some idea what path you would be taking together,” he pointed out, “You gave him a Mandalorian name and have taught him some of the language. Perhaps as with so many things you have simply chosen, until you backed yourself to a wall, to deny what you already knew to be true.”

 

“I never do that.”

 

“You were in labor before you were willing to admit you were pregnant.”

 

“There were absolutely no indications!”

 

“You gave Master Othone grey hair.”

 

“He was old well before he met me.”

 

“You lived side by side with a man who helped raise your son for four years before you admitted you had developed feelings for--”

 

The boy with impeccable timing once again took his moment to shine from across the hall in his room. “Mama!”

 

“I owe my son a story,” Khel beamed, thankful for the interruption, “The adventures at Odessan await.”

 

Oren smirked quietly. “Go. I’ll clean up the rest of this mess.” He indicated the last few pieces of rubbish. He raised a brow at the unbroken datapadd on the floor, and then sighed. “Joss!” he scolded quietly “Is this how you appreciate your lessons? Come and pick up your datapad and put it where it belongs.”

 

Khel had to look away from Master Oren at the exasperated sigh and response that came from her son’s bedroom, lest the man’s disapproving frown meet her amused grin.

 

“Well... _fuck_!”

 

 


End file.
